


Hotdogs

by howitshouldbe



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-07-02 22:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15806211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howitshouldbe/pseuds/howitshouldbe
Summary: Teenage Fred, FP, Hal, Alice, and Mary enter a hotdog eating contest at the county fair. Whose winning strategy will bring them home the prize?





	Hotdogs

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr user fredheads's answers to several asks inspired this fic.  
> I feel like I should add that I know absolutely nothing about this sort of thing so I had to do some reading. It was... interesting.

"What's your strategy gonna to be?" FP asked Fred as they approached the Hotdog Eating Contest sign-in table.

"I don't know... Eat a lot of hotdogs?" Fred replied, clearly confused by FP's question.

FP stopped and stared at him in disbelief. "You gotta have a strategy. You can't win without a strategy."

"Well, what's yours then?" Fred countered haughtily.

"I'm not tellin' you. If you ain't got one by now, it's too late anyway," FP sighed, leaving Fred behind as he made his way to the check-in table. 

Fred let him get a few yards ahead of him before he begrudgingly jogged to catch up.

"Hey, fellas," Hal called to them from where he was already seated at the contest table.

"Oh, jeez," Fred whispered to FP as they nodded their hellos to Hal. "He's gonna smoke us both."

"Nah," FP insisted. "Like I said, I've got a strategy. And it's unbeatable."

Fred just rolled his eyes as he signed next to his name on the check-in form.

He and FP took seats just down from Hal.

"You fellas ready to get beat?" Hal chuckled. A huge smile spread across his face and pack of gum stuck out of his shirt pocket.

"What's with the gum?" Fred asked him.

"I've been chewing a piece all day, every day for a week. My jaw is strong as an ox. After all this gum, these hotdogs are gonna be a breeze."

"See," FP exclaimed, "Cooper's got a strategy." While Hal continued to grin and chomp on his gum, FP lowered his voice and added, "It's a dumb one, but it's better than nothing," just loud enough that Fred could hear him.

Fred just rolled his eyes again.

Other contestants started arriving quickly, and it was almost time to start when Alice and Mary walked through the check-in line and sat down two people over from Hal.

"What are you two doing here?" Fred asked them.

"Girls can eat too, ya know!" Alice snapped at him.

"Well yeah, but--" Hal began, but the girls' glares shut him down.

"Welcome, everyone," the MC's voice rang out. "Thank you for participating in this year's Hotdog Eating Contest. It's always a favorite at the County Fair and we're so glad to have some new faces this year."

Fred glanced down at the girls, but looked away quickly as he saw Alice grimacing in their direction.

"You were all given a list of the rules when you signed up," the MC continued, "so I won't go over all of them, but we do want to remind everyone that you will have ten minutes to eat as many hotdogs as you can. Only completely consumed hotdogs will count at the end of the time, and a complete hotdog does include the bun as well. Are there any questions before we get started?"

When no one spoke, the MC gestured for his assistants to bring out the trays. Fred had never seen so many hotdogs in his life. Piles and piles of hotdogs were placed on the table until everyone had a tray in front of them. Glasses of water were also handed out and the contestants all stood.

At the bell, the race began. FP instantly put his strategy into effect. He separated a hotdog from its bun, eating the dog first, then shoving the bun in his mouth and following it with a swig of water. Making the bun as small as possible, his idea was that the water would help wash it down. He was ahead of Fred two dogs to one right off the bat. 

Hal's strategy, other than his pregame gum chewing, was nonexistent. He truly believed that his ironclad jaw would be enough. He was shoveling whole dogs, bun and all, into his mouth with only a few bites each. He'd chew them a few times per bite and then swallow. By about dog number five he was slowing down significantly.

The girls, on the other hand, were clearly much more prepared. They were separating their buns and dogs like FP, but instead of cramming large amounts in their mouths at once, they were ripping them into pieces and alternating between small chunks of dog and small pieces of bun. Every few bites they'd take a swig of water. The two of them had definitely practiced together because they were nearly in step, each finishing a whole dog within seconds of the other.

If Fred had taken a moment to look around, he may have picked up a few helpful tips, but he was laser focused on the task at hand. Sometimes he would just pick up a whole hotdog and take several bites to finish it. Sometimes he would pick it apart and eat small chunks. As he finished one tray, another was always there to take its place and he completely lost track of how many hotdogs he had eaten pretty early on.

"Ten seconds, contestants," the MC called.

Fred shoved the last bit of the hotdog he was holding into his mouth, chewing like mad and swallowing hard just as the bell rang to end the contest.

There were groans coming from all around him. He didn't feel too bad himself, although the looks on others' faces were threatening to change that. Hal had his fist pressed to his lips and his eyes squeezed shut. The girls looked ok, but Fred was sure there was no way they ate many hotdogs. It was FP who looked the worst. His face was pale and a layer of sweat was forming on his brow.

"You ok?" Fred asked him as the assistants gathered near the MC to pass along the name of the winner.

Keeping his eyes locked straight ahead, FP only nodded his affirmation. 

"Well," the MC began, "it looks like we have a tie. Would Mr. Forsythe Jones and Mr. Fredrick Andrews please come forward?"

The crowd cheered and clapped instantaneously, but FP didn't move from his place. Fred gave him a nudge, but he still didn't move.

"Let's go," he whispered to him.

Finally, FP came to enough to follow Fred to the podium.

"Congratulations, gentlemen," the MC said, shaking their hands. "I believe this is the first time in the contest's history that we have ever had a tie, but there is a stipulation in the rules for such an occasion. According to the official guidelines, the tie will be broken by an eat-off to be held in one hour."

Fred could see FP's face sink. The sweat on his brow was beginning to drip down his face. There was no way he was going to be able to do the whole thing again in an hour.

"That's ok," Fred said softly.

The MC looked over at him, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"I mean," Fred continued, "he and I can split the prize... If that's ok."

Still looking rather confused, the MC turned his attention to FP. "Is that alright with you, Mr. Jones?" he asked.

FP nodded emphatically. 

"Can we even do that?" the MC asked, looking around at the other contest overseers.

Murmurs were spreading around the canopy as everyone questioned those next to them about the legality of this proposition. Finally, someone from the check-in table came up to the podium.

"If they want to split it, we don't see any reason why they can't," she confirmed.

"Well that's that then," the MC said with a sigh of relief. "Let's hear it for this year's winners, Mr. Forsythe Jones and Mr. Fredrick Andrews!"

The crowd clapped and cheered once again. FP looked so relieved that he wasn't going to have to eat another hotdog that Fred knew he wasn't too upset about the fact that the MC kept using his full name.

"Thank you," FP said to him as they each carried their individual twenty-five dollars and shared blue ribbon up the walk.

Fred stopped, looking FP up and down. "For what?" he asked, knowing full well what for. "You don't think I was going to let them put us head-to-head, do you? What with your amazing strategy and all."

With this, he slapped FP on the back, nearly making him vomit, and left him behind as he took off down the path, a huge smile plastered on his face.


End file.
